First Run
by Madolan
Summary: Switch's first lone mission in the Matrix goes awry when something odious tracks her down.


DISCLAIMER: These characters don't belong to me, nor are they likely to. If they were mine, I'd quite selfishly keep them to myself and I am not inclined to share. I'm making no money off of this and intend no copyright infringement. Feedback cautiously accepted at amgreene@students.wisc.edu * * * * * 

FIRST RUN Matrix fanfic by Madolan 

* * * * * 

*Run!* 

Her feet hit the concrete evenly. No obstacle broke her pace. In fact, nothing in her way registered enough to present a difficulty. There was nothing before her, nothing that mattered. Only what was behind her. 

*He's coming. He's behind you. Run.* Grasping her bleeding shoulder, she moaned briefly and quickly drew her hand away. She staggered as she rounded a corner. She reached out automatically to balance herself and found her stride again. She barely registered the affronted noises that meant her unwilling support had been a person. Suddenly the noises changed timbre. Hypersensitive to suspicious alterations through hours of intensive training, her head snapped around to assess the danger. And she found herself a mere ten feet from the ominous barrel of a Glock 9mm... and the cold, detached smile of an Agent. 

* * * * * * * * * * 

"Splice the hardline, get us the link we need, and waltz on home," grinned Tank. "Easy job. Good one to cut your teeth on." The corner of Switch's mouth turned down in a scowl. She held the grimace long enough for her operator to catch the gesture. She didn't want anyone to hold the misguided opinion that she was grateful for simple tasks. She was strong, capable, and damned well able to run harder jobs than a hardware operation. Tank, easy-going as ever, turned back to the keyboard with a smile and a tiny shake of his head. With his eyes safely on the switchboard, Switch's features relaxed into her favorite hardened expression. She tried not to breathe too deeply- it might betray her sense of relief. Outwardly, her bravado was as much for her benefit as theirs. Inwardly, though, she couldn't repress a certain uneasiness about her first solo trip into the Matrix. She was confident in her strength. But she harbored no illusions that she could handle an Agent if the worst happened. *The worst simply won't happen,* she reassured herself. "Are you ready?" Trinity's low, measured voice came from somewhere over Switch's right shoulder. A moment later Trinity herself rounded the chair and stepped into view. Switch nodded perfunctorily, inwardly satisfied. Morpheus's right-hand officer knew how to handle most situations tactfully. She had an innate compassion that was occasionally at odds with her unflagging strength in the Matrix. Trinity wasn't fussing over Switch's emotional response to the job- she knew Switch herself had to handle it. Her no-nonsense tone of voice only asked for the readiness she expected from anyone about to enter the Matrix. At Switch's nod, Trinity drove the connection into the data jack at the base of Switch's skull. A silent look at Tank, one motion of fingertip to keyboard, and Switch was falling into the familiar vortex of the Matrix. 

* * * * * * * * * * 

"Thank you for playing, Ms-" 

Switch hissed over the Agent's words. Even staring down the barrel of certain death, she detested the name she'd been given as a tool of the Matrix. She was free now. She was Switch. She bolted. Flinging herself to the ground and rolling under a guardrail, she felt the sting of shrapnel as a bullet caught the pavement near her cheek. She was on her feet and sprinting through a doorway before she fully understood what she was doing. Crowds of people parted before her. If they didn't move willingly when they saw a crazed woman sprinting with a drawn weapon, she forcibly moved them. Yells and shrieks behind her indicated that the Agent was doing the same thing, probably with more success. She was leaving a trail of outraged faces and dropped packages behind her- a trail that would surely lead him to her. A welcoming escalator provided a brief respite- she slid down the railing, punching up her speed a notch. Her hands momentarily free, she slid the phone from her pocket and automatically hit the speed dial. The phone clicked into a connection. She didn't wait for a verbal response. "I'm in a fucking shopping mall," she spat. "Get a signal and get me out. Agent on my ass." Landing with catlike grace, she spun and took a shot just to prove her point. The oncoming Agent didn't appear to even duck- his fluid, blurring motion was evidence enough. Coming back into focus, he shrugged off her effort with another machinelike smirk. And kept coming. The phone spat static. In a moment of clarity Tank's strong voice came through: "Southwest corner of the mall, Switch. Phone on the third floor. Get there." She nearly dropped the phone folding it up and replacing it in her jacket. Setting her jaw, she took one more useless shot at the Agent before turning and running for her life. 

* * * * * * * * * * 

The razor cut cleanly, and the incision was made. She fumbled a moment with the handful of wires, then swiftly made the alterations necessary for the operator's new line. Morpheus wanted a constant link to a new potential, and the safest way to do that was to provide their own untraceable line. Switch spat out a length of copper wiring and grimaced. This was no more glorious than her old escapades hacking, in the days before she knew what the Matrix was. But she had to admit a grudging interest in this new potential. The intense hacker went by the handle of Apoc even outside of his online activities. He'd be a good addition to the crew. He was serene under fire and rarely frightened. He was chillingly good at combat, too- combat downloads would only help, of course, but she wasn't sure how much the tae kwon do program could improve his already impressive technique. He was already asking the right questions about the Matrix's nature. Soon, he'd be ready to speak with Morpheus and make the decision of his life. But until then, the Nebuchadnezzar's crew would keep a close eye on Apoc. Switch closed the wall panel with a smug smile. Her task was done. Her first solo assignment. This one was a cake walk- she was itching for something a little more rough. She was still thinking that when she sauntered out of the building. She pulled her white business jacket tighter against the chill, even though she knew it was only a programmed response to Matrix stimuli. Melting into the crowd was easy and soon she was flowing with the mass of sidewalk commuters toward her rendezvous point. Switch's weak spot was pride. She tended to harbor overassurance to an extreme, and this frequently made her blind to her own errors. It was a failing Morpheus has pointed out to her in training. She'd spent countless extra hours in the training constructs honing her perception and reflexes, as a result. It was simpler to improve her body than to alter her emotional habits- at least, that's how Switch saw it. Those extra training hours had made her fast, capable, dangerous- -but they hadn't tempered the pride that occasionally blinded her to danger. She sauntered along, content in her own success. She didn't see the Agent until the first gunshot cracked through the crowd, grazing her shoulder and taking down the man in front of her. A bare glance around her was enough to ascertain that an Agent had found her. She ran. 

* * * * * * * * * * 

The pain in her shoulder was so unimportant at the moment that she could no longer feel it. Some remote corner of her mind noted this with grim pleasure. She didn't need pain to slow her down, dull her reflexes. Switch vaulted a countertop and hit the ground running. She aimed herself roughly for a back room and slammed against the wall before she could adjust her trajectory. The door burst open as she banged through it. Boxes and racks filled a litter-strewn storeroom. A ragged yell ripping from her lungs, she kicked the base of a pyramid of boxes, willing the extra strength and precision that she'd learned when Morpheus taught her to bend the rules of the Matrix. The boxes went flying like so many toy blocks, falling against the doorway in a sturdy blockade. Innately knowing that it wouldn't hold an Agent for more than a moment, she sprinted across the storeroom to a back stairwell. One floor up. Two floors. Three. She looked longingly at the neon red Exit sign above her, indicating a windowed door to the sunlit world outside. She fought down the urge to run outside, to run and run and keep running until he couldn't find her... a muffled growl found its way out of her throat and she flung open the third floor door. Just as the Agent rounded the staircase and leveled his Glock. A phone rang somewhere behind her, but its shrill tone couldn't match the volume of the Agent's finger squeezing the trigger. She thought she'd never heard anything so loud. *Drop.* Her knuckles grazed the cheap department store carpeting. The shot shrieked harmlessly over her head as her body twisted from a runner's sprint to a physics-defying backflip. She spun in the air, over the upturned, shocked faces of daily shoppers, and landed like a cat at the service desk. A green phone rang next to her left hand. Switch lifted the receiver, not so much bringing it to her ear as hitting herself in the side of the head with it. She swallowed reflexively. Her eyes lifted slowly, unbearably slowly it seemed to her, raising evenly with her gun until her gaze and her weapon were trained on the Agent. He had her. He was pulling the trigger, infinitely slowly. Time stopped... 

...and she awoke, gasping. Her lips tightened as she struggled to get out of the chair. Instinct screamed at her to stand, get in control of herself. Strong arms held her back and she felt the connecting needle slide out of her neck. Someone spoke soothingly to her. Someone else was cheering. Jarringly disconnected from the Matrix, she understood in a rush that she was safe. Trinity was helping her to sit up, swiftly tying off a bandage on Switch's shoulder. Tank jumped up from the switchboard, still cheering wildly, and caught her up in a bear hug. Oddly, the resulting pain in her shoulder didn't bother her in the least. They were cheering her, and her escape... that sort of exultation made pain secondary at best. Someone else was watching. Morpheus stood on the other side of the console, watching her carefully. Catching her eye, he nodded once. He looked...satisfied. Even pleased. "Well done, Switch," said Morpheus. His stentorian voice cut through the others' talk. Everyone fell silent, waiting. "Thanks, sir." Switch ran a hand through her white-blonde hair, unsure whether she should be pleased with the compliment or apologize for letting her guard down. "You reacted well. You used your surroundings instinctively. Excellent adaptation." Switch breathed out slowly, her only noticeable sign of relief. "You'll be excellent muscle when we're inside." His mouth quirked slightly. "You're the sort of strength our missions will benefit greatly from." With a last benevolent smile, he strode off the main deck. Her pride, that damnable failing, was back in full force. But she allowed herself to luxuriate in it for a moment before tempering her emotions. For the briefest of moments, she permitted herself a full grin. Her bright smile echoed those of her friends, surrounding her, supporting her, proud of her. She was Switch. She was free. And now, she was an active part of the Resistance. 


End file.
